


Et Tu

by YanderexBabydoll



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Gangbang, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Spitroasting, Team Dynamics, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll
Summary: One more practice, you reason, then you’ll be done.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 31
Kudos: 589





	Et Tu

**Author's Note:**

> Pure self indulgence, I have no excuse

Coach Irihata hums thoughtfully, and you fight the urge to twist your hands in your lap.

“Have you spoken with Oikawa about this?”

Your nervous smile tightens just a fraction, but you remind yourself of who you’re talking to - the respect that the Coach deserves. You might loathe the Seijoh boys volleyball club with every fibre of your being, but he’s not to blame for your misery. “I don’t really think I need to, Coach. I’ve made my decis-”

He cuts you off with a single raised hand. “Please, Y/N. He’s your Captain.” _Do not scowl, do not scowl, do not scowl._ “These boys need you. Talk to him first and if your decision is still the same-” you hold your breath, “-we can reassess.”

It’s not what you want to hear, but you’re hardly about to stand up and argue with him. If you don’t want your extracurricular records to look like absolute shit when you’re applying for Universities, you need his approval… and, more importantly, his signature. You nod tensely, keeping your mouth shut and with a short bow you gather your things and all but run from his office.

There’s no way in hell that you’re going to discuss anything with that piece of shit, but you figure you’ll suffer through practice this afternoon, go home and unwind over the weekend and try and talk to Coach again on Monday. 

Just one signature, and you’d be done with all of it. 

Yet there was some part of you that felt heart broken that it had come to this. You hadn’t signed on as the Seijoh manager for the cute boys, you’d done it because you loved volleyball and you enjoyed the work. It made you feel useful.

It made you _happy_.

But this… this wasn’t what you signed up for.

One more practice, you reason, then you’ll be done.

You’ve never been one to shirk your duties, and despite your mixed feelings practice that afternoon is no different. You arrive at the gym only a few minutes before the rest of the team does, and immediately busy yourself in setting up. You help Coach Mizoguchi lob balls for the team to practice their receives, you keep score when they split up and play against each other and when they break midway through practice, you diligently pass out their towels and water bottles, smiling tightly at Kindaichi when he glances up and thanks you for it.

He’s a good kid, it’s just a shame that you can already see what being part of this team is doing to him.

You make your way over to the third years last of all. Makki and Mattsun are chatting aimlessly on the step, Iwaizumi’s busy yelling at Kyoutani about sabotaging Kunimi in their last play-

_“But I scored the damned point, didn’t I?’_

_“That’s not the fucking issue here, dumbass!”_

-and Oikawa’s standing a little off to the side, watching the two of them with his arms folded across his chest and the faintest hint of a scowl written across his face. It’s not something you’re proud of per se, but it does give you a strangely vindictive sense of pleasure to know that even though he’s the Captain, there’s still somebody on his team who not only refuses to respect but outright ignores him at every possible opportunity. Mad Dog isn’t an angel by any stretch of imagination, but his ability to get on Oikawa’s nerves is one of his few redeeming qualities.

The scowl fades however as he perks up at the sound of your approach. Instead, those dark brown eyes flick to your face and he smiles - a smug, irritating expression that never bodes well for you. “You’re being awfully quiet today, cutie,” he says as he takes the offered bottle and towel, his fingers brushing deliberately against yours. Your skin prickles uncomfortably and you fight the urge to snatch your hand back. “Something the matter?”

There’s another pair of eyes on you, Matsukawa’s you think, but you don’t turn to check. Instead you merely shrug and shake your head, “Not at all,” you say breezily, “should there be?”

Something a little too sharp flickers in Oikawa’s gaze, but he just hums pleasantly. “You know if something’s bothering you, Y/N, you can always talk to me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Not even if he were the last person on earth. 

A sharp whistle saves you from answering, and just like that you’re thrown back into the mix. More drills, laps, and another practice set between them. They’re focused, like always, striving for perfection in a way that’s almost admirable, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy as you watch them play. They’re quieter than usual, but don’t miss the shared looks between the third years, nor the ones they shoot in your direction whenever they think you aren’t paying attention. It makes your skin prickle and the little hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

You chalk it up to weird tension between the team today - a theory that’s proven correct when halfway through the first set Yahaba starts snapping at Kyoutani. If it were anybody else on the team, they might just roll their eyes and move on (if it were anyone else on the team, Yahaba wouldn’t be saying _shit_ ), but you watch the Wing Spiker’s eyes narrow and flash, his hands tightening into fists at his side and before you or anybody else can think to stop it, he drops into a crouch and launches himself at Yahaba. 

They hit the ground with a snarl, arms and legs in a tangled mess.

You’re on your feet in instant, halfway across the court before you even realise that you’ve moved at all. It’s not to stop the fight - you’re not stupid enough to try and get between the two brawling idiots - but because at least _one_ of them’s gonna need some kind of medical attention and that, unfortunately, still falls to you.

Except Makki’s hand wraps around your wrist before you can intervene, tugging you to a stop at his side. “Leave it,” he says, eyeing you strangely. 

“But-”

“Iwa’s got it covered,” Mattsun mutters, coming up on your other side. You glance over, and sure enough the Oikawa and Iwa have managed to pry them apart - Yahaba’s sporting a split lip, courtesy of Mad Dog’s elbow, but otherwise seems relatively unhurt and Kyoutani’s being dragged by his arm outside the Gym, no doubt so that Hajime can yell at him again. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

He ruffles your hair with a sly smirk, laughing when you scowl and duck away from his touch - or you would have, if Makki’s grip hadn’t kept you firmly in place. 

With the coaches busy mediating and Oikawa focused on the disgruntled Setter, nobody notices when they push closer, boxing you in between them. You can feel the warmth radiating off their skin as Makki’s hands find your hips and they both press closer. It’s too much - too warm, too suffocating, but you can’t seem to lift a finger to stop them. “Captain’s right, you know,” Matsukawa continues, reaching for the collar of your jacket. Your heart hammers in your chest, your breath catching as Makki rests his chin on your shoulder, but Mattsun just tugs the material, pushing it open to reveal the faint remnants of the fading hickey decorating your neck. He smiles fondly at it, dark eyes flickering across your face, “If something’s bothering our _dear_ manager, we’d like to know.”

A whistle sounds - Iwa and Kyoutani are back, and Coach Irihata’s standing on the edge of the court with an uncharacteristic frown. “Alright, off your asses! Finish the set, then I want to see fifty serves from each of you,” Mizoguchi barks in his stead. “Anyone tries a stunt like that again, and I’ll make it a hundred!”

There’s a muttered grumbling from the team, and their grip loosens just enough for you to rip yourself free and flee back to your spot on the sidelines. 

You don’t realise that your hands are shaking until you reach for your notepad. You swallow harshly, gripping your pen tighter as you turn your gaze back to the court-

Your stomach twists into a knot. Despite the volley ball spinning in his fingertips, Oikawa’s smirking, his attention focused wholly on you.

He winks.

***

You hide in the women’s locker room for a good twenty minutes after practice finishes up - hopefully long enough for the guys to change, get their gear together and leave. It’s a little childish maybe, but now that training is done - now that _you’re_ done (or you will be, when you talk to Coach again on Monday) you don’t want to be around them for a second longer than necessary.

It’s kind of difficult for that to happen when you live only a few doors down from the Captain himself. 

You sigh deeply, letting your head fall back and your eyes flutter shut. Today’s practice had just been the icing on the cake - if you hadn’t been sure of your decision before, you definitely were now.

They’d been sweaty, gross and panting by the time Coach blew the final whistle. It hadn’t stopped Oikawa from pulling the team into a huddle, sandwiching you tightly between him and Iwaizumi. 

“This year we go to nationals. _All of us_ ,” he’d said, his russet eyes flickering momentarily to you before regarding his team. “I’m trusting you guys.”

They’d need to beat Shiratorizawa first, but still, thought of being trapped with them in Tokyo surrounded by all that adrenaline and aggression is enough to make your stomach turn.

On the bench beside you, your phone lights up and vibrates loudly.

It’s a text from Kindaichi, you realise as you swipe it open.

_Hey. Sorry to bug you but are you still at school???_

You’re tempted to lie because you know there can only be one reason he’s asking, but you remind yourself that none of this is his fault and you shouldn’t take your anger at the rest of the team out on him.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard, texting a quick reply.

_Just about to head out and lock up. What’s up?_

His response shoots through a few seconds later.

_I think I left my wallet in the locker room?? I can’t find it anywhere, can you check? The others went home and I don’t have keys :(_

You sigh, rolling your eyes. Oikawa also has a set of keys, but that’s hardly the point. You both know he wouldn’t dare bother his beloved Captain unless it was his last option.

_Please?? I’ll bring you coffee on Monday for practice!!_

You groan, but reluctantly force yourself to your feet. Really, it’ll take a few seconds to check the boys locker room and if it’s there you can drop it off at his place on your way home - from memory he only lives about ten minutes walk from yours. No biggie.

The lights are off as you make your way down the hallway, there’s not a peep to be heard - it’d be unnerving if it wasn’t like this every time you stayed back to clean up after them. Still, out of habit you find yourself knocking on the door to the boys locker rooms as you slide the key into the lock and turn it.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally walked in while there was still somebody changing.

“Hey, if anyone’s in there, uh, cover up I guess?” you laugh to yourself, pushing the door open. 

You don’t have time to shriek as a pale hand reaches out from the darkness and wraps tightly around your wrist and with a sharp tug you find yourself being yanked inside the pitch black locker room.

You fall into a hard chest with a grunt, and the grip on your wrist disappears as wiry arms encircle your waist to steady you.

“There you are, cutie. I was starting to think you were going to leave poor Kindaichi high and dry,” an all too familiar voice purrs into your ear as the door swings firmly shut behind you.

Your heart skips a beat as the fluorescent lights flicker on. 

Oikawa’s face fills your vision - smirking down at you, dark eyes hungry and glinting. 

He’s not alone either. 

The entire team is standing there, silently staring at the two of you. Your eyes scan their faces, ranging from blank looks, predatory smiles and scowls until you find Kindaichi standing at the back of the pack. He’s the only one who won’t meet your gaze, his face burning red as he stares resolutely at the ground, hands clenched into fists at his side.

It doesn’t ease the sharp sting of pain that lances through your heart, but you pay it no mind as you rip yourself free of Oikawa’s hold. “What the hell is this?” you snap, glaring at each of them. 

You shake your head, taking a step back only to be met with another chest - Iwa’s you realise as the familiar musky scent of him wraps around you like a cocoon.

Oikawa’s smirk turns cruel, “Y’know, Coach Irihata told me the most _interesting_ story this morning, baby.”

Your face pales, but Iwa’s hand clamps down on your shoulder before you can even think to move. His thumb brushes just once over along your collarbone, leaving goosebumps in his wake - an attempt to soothe you, maybe, or a perhaps a silent warning. It’s always 50-50 with the Ace.

Oikawa tuts, stalking forward to grab harshly at your jaw, forcing you to meet his piercing stare. “He said that you wanted to quit the team, to _abandon_ us when we need you the most, but you wouldn’t be so _selfish_ now would you, Y/N?”

You bare your teeth as best you can with his fingers squeezing painfully at your cheeks, “You seriously think I want to stay?” you whisper coldly, though in the dead silence of the locker room you may as well have screamed it. “Let me go - I’m done with the team, I’m done with _you_. Best of luck with making it to nationals though.”

Makki snorts somewhere behind you, but Oikawa’s grin doesn’t falter. He laughs lightly, “Ah, but what would we do without that adorable, little fighting spirit in our corner?” His head tilts to the side, finally letting go of your jaw so that he can run the back of his fingers along your cheek. You shiver and his eyes _gleam_. He flicks at your nose, turning his head to glance over his shoulder at the gathered first and second years. “Get out.”

Kunimi and Watari grab their bags and dart out of there like they’re glad for the excuse to leave, neither daring to meet your gaze. Yahaba’s slower, his face impassive as his eyes briefly meet yours - the silent accusation rings loud and clear, but beneath it all, you can almost swear there’s a flicker of _hurt_. Your gut clenches uncomfortably, but he files out too before you can ponder on it for too long. Kindaichi, cheeks still burning red with shame trails after him, he doesn’t look at you but he pauses at the door, fiddling with the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “Y/N, I… I’m-”

“ _Kindaichi._ ”

He stiffens at the Captain’s tone, and with a sharp nod quickly follows the others. 

Only Kyoutani remains, leaning against the lockers with his arms folded, staring brazenly right at you, trapped between the Captain and the Vice Captain. There’s hunger burning in those golden eyes as he stares at you, a kind of want that steals the very breath from your lungs and makes your blood run cold. He has no intentions of leaving, but it’s not out of any desire to _help_ you.

Forget what you’d thought earlier - Kyoutani’s just as fucked up as the rest of them.

Oikawa huffs, a hint of irritation passing through his features. “That means you too, Mad Dog.”

“No,” he grunts.

You feel the growl rumble at your back before you hear it. “Kyoutani, get your ass moving.” Iwa snaps.

“But-”

Iwa’s grip tightens instinctively around your shoulders, though he’s quick to relax his hold when you whimper in pain. Still, his voice is harsh and edged with warning when he addresses the second year again. “Leave. _Now_. This is between your upperclassmen.”

His eyes narrow, but he just grunts, picking up his bag and stalking from the room with a glare, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Heavy silence settles across the room as all four remaining third years turn their attention back to you. 

You swallow uneasily, licking your lips as Mattsun and Makki share identical grins, pushing themselves off the lockers to close in on the three of you. 

“Now where were we?” Oikawa purrs, greedily drinking in every ounce of the fear that radiates out of you as you try to pull yourself free of Iwa’s grip.

“Ain’t she precious,” Matsukawa snorts at the same time that Iwa’s lips brush against your ear and he growls a quiet, “ _Behave_.”

You still, heart hammering in your chest. You know that you’re shaking, try as you might you can’t seem to stop it. “Y-you think you can just bully me into staying on as manager?” you stutter.

Oikawa chuckles softly, capturing your chin in his long fingers once more, leaning down… 

You brace yourself for a kiss, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Oikawa stops himself just before your lips meet. His warm breath fans across your face as he smiles angelically at you, his nose brushes against yours and you fight the urge to recoil. It’s too close, too intimate, but despite the feather light touch he holds you with, you know you can’t escape. “Well of course I do,” he coos. “But try to think of this more as a… team bonding exercise. We love our cute, little manager, what kind of team would we be if we didn’t show you that?”

He closes the gap, soft lips sealing around yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

Iwa’s grip slides forward, grabbing the zipper of your jacket and tugging it down. You squirm into the kiss as Oikawa deepens it, groaning into your mouth. You distantly register the fabric of your jacket sliding off your arms. “Catch,” Iwa says with a laugh, scrunching the fabric into a ball and tossing it at Mattsun’s face, only for the latter to bat it away easily.

Panic spikes, adrenaline surging through your veins. 

You’ve spent years being meek, letting them toy with you, use you, _abuse_ you. This is the one line they haven’t ever crossed, and you can kid yourself that they won’t this time either, that this is just another ploy to scare you into submission - but you can feel it in the air, so thick with heady lust you almost choke on it, you feel it in the way Oikawa’s tongue melds with yours, the way Iwa’s fingers slide under the collar of your shirt and reach for the soft, supple skin of your tits. Unable to be satisfied merely watching from the sidelines another pair of hands joins Iwa’s, settling on your hips, teasing at the hem of your gym pants.

You know they’re going to fuck you right there in the locker room.

Rape you.

Ruin you.

Unless you stop them.

Your hands shake as they find purchase on Oikawa’s chest. He shudders a little at the unexpected touch, grinning into the kiss and before you can think better of it, you _shove_.

He stumbles back in shock, tripping over his feet and falling onto his ass, but you don’t stop there, driving an elbow sharply back into Iwaizumi’s gut, “Get your fucking hands off me!” you snarl, dropping your weight to duck under Makki’s arm as he grabs at you. 

You know exactly how strong they are, how quickly they can move - so you don’t give them a second to recover, sprinting for the door. 

You make it three whole steps before a burly pair of arms wrap around your waist, hauling you back. 

“Naughty kitten,” Mattsun growls into your ear, but you can hear the excitement dripping from his tone, and when he presses you up against his front he makes sure to grind his half hard cock against your ass.

“No! NO! LET ME GO,” your snarl, thrashing in his arms, but you might as well weigh nothing for the ease with which he carries you back and tosses you harshly onto the bench.

Oikawa’s already back on his feet, a winded and glaring Iwaizumi leaning off his side. “Mattsun, be gentle with her,” he chastises, but there’s nothing gentle in his expression as he leans over you, “Poor thing’s just scared. She doesn’t seem to understand that there’s no weaseling her way out of this one, she brought it on herself.”

You should have kicked him in his bad knee when you had the chance. 

He ruffles your hair playfully, ignoring your glare to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, “Don’t make us have to hurt you, baby,” he whispers with a pout. “Just be good, and let us take care of our sweet girl, hm?”

You want to fight, to snap and growl and claw at him and the others, but when you open your mouth all that comes out is a choked sob, “Please…” you beg as tears start to spill down your cheeks. “Please don’t do this. I-I’ll stay, I wont… I won’t…”

It’s Hanamaki who takes the seat beside you, takes your trembling hand in his and smiles gently when you draw in a ragged breath, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’re gonna make you feel so good.” His eyes flicker momentarily up to meet his Captain’s gaze before returning to your tear stained face, “We know you’re not going anywhere.”

Your sobs are swallowed up as his lips meet yours.

Clothes are pulled from your body and tossed haphazardly across the room. Theirs quickly join the pile. A mouth attaches itself to your neck, another licking and sucking at your breasts. Hands paw at every inch of you, teasing, groping, greedy. Your eyes flutter shut as one of them laughs and another sighs, “So fucking pretty.”

You don’t fight it when they manhandle you onto your stomach, spreading your legs either side of the bench. Your hands clench into fists and you bite your bottom lip at the first brush of fingers against your pussy, but a warm palm comes to rest on the small of you back, stroking your skin softly, “Relax cutie, gotta make sure you’re ready to take us.”

“Cause _somebody’s_ hung like a fuckin’ horse,” Makki snorts.

Mattsun laughs, and you don’t have to see him to know that he’s waggling his eyebrows suggestively, “Don’t be jealous, man. Can’t all be blessed!”

“Will you two _please_ shut the fuck up? You’re making me go soft.”

You whimper and gasp as a long digit slides inside, and Oikawa moans, “Fuck, baby. You’re already so wet for us.”

Shame floods your cheeks as his thumb circles your clit and you shiver, so naturally he does it again. Another finger joins the first, scissoring you apart and it _hurts_ , but when he crooks his fingers and rubs against your walls you can only gasp and writhe beneath him, biting down on a breathless moan.

With his fingers driving in and out of you and the occasional slap that comes down on your bare ass it’s easy to pretend you don’t hear the slick sounds of the other three stroking themselves behind you.

Oikawa continues to fuck you with his fingers for a few minutes, alternating between long leisurely strokes and quick bursts that have you whining as you clench around him as he teases you clit, but it doesn’t take long for the others to grow impatient. It’s Mattsun who comes around to the other side of the bench first. 

He crouches down beside your head, running a hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “You like it, don’t you, having your Captain’s fingers in your tight cunt? God, look at you, whining like a needy little slut - we haven’t even started, baby!” he chuckles. “Can’t wait to see how pretty you’ll moan when it’s our cocks instead, but in the meantime-” his index and middle fingers swipe along your bottom lip, and your eyes shoot open to find him grinning widely at you, eyes half lidded and hungry, “Do me a favour and open up for me, yeah?”

It’s not enough for them to strip and fuck you, they want to degrade you-

Another harsh smack lands on your ass, courtesy of Makki, and your mouth opens in a shriek. Mattsun takes the opportunity offered, sliding the digits between your lips. You could bite down, try and spit them out, or refuse to play along entirely, but you don’t. With your wide, terrified eyes fixed on his you close your mouth and wrap your tongue around the long, thick digits like you know he wants you to.

His answering groan sends a flood of shame burning through you. 

Behind you, Oikawa must figure that you’re as prepped as you’re ever gonna be, because he abruptly stops and pulls his fingers free from your now dripping pussy, taking a moment to lick them clean before he stands. Your breath hitches and you whine at the sudden loss of stimulation, but his hand finds your hip and he squeezes reassuringly. “Mattsun’s right, you really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he muses teasingly, bending over to kiss at your shoulder.

With Matsukawa still gripping your jaw you can’t turn to see what he’s doing, but you feel it when he drags the weeping head of his cock along your glistening, pink slit. “Our pretty… needy… little _cock whore manager,_ ” he growls, sheathing himself inside you in one harsh thrust. 

You can’t help it, you scream.

It’s not just that he’s big, but the sudden girth that fills you takes you by surprise and fuck - the strech burns, but he doesn’t give you a moment to adjust or relax before he’s pounding away inside of you like a man possessed.

You have to grip the edges of the bench to steady yourself, and you're quietly thankful when Mattsun’s fingers withdraw from your lips, if only so that you don’t accidentally bite down on them. All you can focus on is Oikawa’s hips pistoning against yours, the feel of his throbbing cock as it drags against your slick cunny walls and the breathless praise that falls from his lips as he fucks into you.

You’re so lost in the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that you don’t notice Iwaizumi moving until he’s standing right in front of you. His tanned skin looks golden under the lights of the locker room, the faintest sheen of sweat glistening on his bare chest as he looms over you, and your breath catches. Like Mattsun, he gently grabs your chin to tilt your face upward to look at him. He strokes your cheek, brushing away the tears that leak from your eyes with an affectionate smile, but it’s the heated look in his eyes - dark pools glazed over with barely contained lust - that makes your stomach clench and your heart skip a beat. With his spare hand he reaches for his dick, and guides the throbbing member to your lips. “Suck,” he says.

It’s not a suggestion.

Obediently you open your mouth, letting your tongue flick out and lick and swirl around at the weeping head and he _shudders._

“You have any idea how long we’ve wanted this?” he asks as he cants his hips forward, his hands moving to wind through your hair. “Wanted _you_?” 

It’s a struggle to take him entirely, but he pays no mind to your whimpered cries as your mouth stretches uncomfortably around his cock. Iwa hits the back of your throat with a groan, and you have to fight against your gag reflex as a particularly brutal thrust from Oikawa has you jerking forward and screaming around him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, “do that again.”

The Captain chuckles behind you, “Gladly!”

You quickly lose track of time, seconds dragging into hours as they roughly take their pleasure from you.

Iwa’s the first to come, spilling his load down your throat as he fists at you hair and mutters a stuttered curse, but even then he’s just replaced with Makki who fucks your throat like it’s a fleshlight, though he showers you with kisses and praise as if that’s supposed to make any kind of difference.

At one stage Mattsun takes your hand, spits in it and wraps it around his cock, gliding it up and down his length while he waits for his turn to fuck your warm, tight cunt.

True to their word, they don’t forget about you either. Oikawa’s expert fingers teasing at your clit until your pussy tightens and throbs around him and you cum with an earth shattering scream. It’s your first orgasm of the night, but definitely not the last. Long after they’ve taken their turns pumping you full of their seed they keep going, one orgasm stretches into two, then three, then four.

It’s hard to keep track, after that.

You find yourself pulled into Oikawa’s lap, head thrown back against his shoulder as you sob and beg for them to stop as Makki buries his face between your thighs. Oikawa’s lips kiss at your neck, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. It’s like that that you cum again, arching your back and clutching desperately at him as the waves of blinding pleasure and pain crash over you.

You’re barely capable of thought as you hurtle back down to earth, much less actual speech, but you don’t miss the surprisingly sweet kiss that Oikawa presses against your swollen lips afterwards, nor the soft, possessive words he murmurs against your skin.

As you lie there, shivering and spent between the four of them you know that whatever plans you had to quit are all but useless now.

After this, there’s no going back.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it! It's 4 am and I desperately need the sleep, but leave some kudos and/or comments if you liked it (I havee a few from my updates yesterday that I still have to reply to - I haven't forgotten you guys I promise!)
> 
> As always, feel free to come say hi on tumblr!


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